Friends and Lovers
by mysteria-wilson
Summary: After high school Clary broke his heart, Jace decided to give up on love. But will her return to their childhood hometown, soften his heart and allow him finally put the past behind him and move on with his life?
1. Graduation

Disclaimer: I only own the plot and all the poetry in the works that follow. All the characters and recognizable properties belong to Cassandra Clare.

**Chapter One – Graduation**

_It's end of childhood_

_The final step we take before embarking on the road to adulthood_

_Say goodbye to old friends and familiar places_

_And welcome the challenges ahead_

_- Jace-_

It was graduation night and Clary and I were lying side by side in my bed. She was still flying high on the sense of accomplishment that came with completing high school.

"Can you believe that just a few hours ago we graduated? And in a few short months, I'll be leaving?"

"You know it's not too late to go to school here with me, like we wanted when we were younger." I told her.

"Pittsburgh's only 8-9 hours away. I'll be home all the time on weekends and on breaks. And it'll be like nothing changed." She promised, kissing my lips. Normally we would stop there but tonight that wasn't the case.

I couldn't get enough of her, and she couldn't get enough of me. My hands roamed down her hips and hers weaved their way into my hair.

When I moved to unzip her dress, she leaned over and pushed her hair back out of her face.

"Are you sure?" she asked, but I knew Clary could see the answer within my eyes. I had wanted her for so long. And as tonight was the first day of the rest of our lives, I wanted to live it well.

"I'm sure." I told her, leaning down to recapture her lips. When we broke apart for air, I leaned back on my heels and unbuttoned my shirt, my aureate eyes never leaving her jade ones.

As we revealed our teenaged bodies to one another, I told her I loved her. It wasn't the first time but it still held just as much weight and meaning as it did when I first expressed it.

Clary and I met when we were ten years old. She was the new girl on the block, quiet and kind of shy. The first thing she told me was of her desire to draw me.

As we got older, we became closer and I didn't see anyone the same way I saw her. To me she was an angel and I was merely the mortal lucky enough to be loved by her.

Clary nimble fingers nervously glided over my chest, exploring further down. I watched her bite her lip and she removed the final piece of clothing I had on.

I lavished her neck and bosom with kisses and slight nibbles as her small hand wrapped around my member, slowly stroking me to fullness. I captured one of her nipples in my mouth, teasing it with my teeth and tongue.

Small moans left her mouth and I moved further and checked her readiness. Pushing my finger into her folds, she gasped in surprise but pushed her lips onto mine with a vehemence I had yet to experience from her. Clary pulled me in closer; her hands making every molecule of my skin feel alive.

That night as we crossed the line between friends and lovers, I thought of nothing and no one. I didn't think about the fact that she was leaving me at the end of the summer or the fact that I couldn't follow her. I thought of nothing but the moment we were in and the closeness we were sharing.

Baring my soul wasn't something I did with everyone. Hell I didn't let anyone in. Not my parents, not even Alec, who I considered my brother. But Clary, she got more than my soul. She got all of me. My mind, my body and my soul. Everything that I didn't need, I gave to her willingly.

"What happens now? I'm leaving at the end of August."

I pulled her in closer to me and kissed the top of her head. "Let's worry about that in the morning. I just want to enjoy this." I whispered, stroking her arm.

I didn't want to speak about it. I didn't want to take the high road and tell her that I would be fine with seeing her here and there but I didn't want to take the low road and beg her to stay in a place I knew she once hated.

Life for Clary didn't exist in a town whose nickname was 'The End.' She saw life in Montauk as a trap for all who stayed here.

When she first moved here, all she could talk about was how life in Brooklyn was so different from here. She loved hearing the sounds of the city at night and riding the train to school. How everything stayed open late and you could have almost anything you wanted delivered.

But out here in the country, nothing was within walking distance and everyone acted so friendly, all the time. It was enough to drive a city girl insane. But I was one of the few people who knew the real reason why she moved out here. Brooklyn wasn't safe for Clary and her family.

One night while we sat at the edge of the docks she told me. She told me about her real father, Valentine. How he was trouble and obsessed with her mother. They moved here with her stepfather Luke, into his old home, in the hopes he wouldn't find them.

In the beginning I always thought Clary only saw me as a welcomed distraction but then I realized she came to see me as a friend and confidant. I showed her that there was more to this place than just the things she hated.

I stayed awake that night as she slept in my arms, holding her tight and never wanting to let her go. I knew the pain would be unbearable and I feared it would be the thing to kill me.

When she woke, she mentioned nothing of leaving; only smiling at me and promising she would see me later that night.

I worked at my father's bar, making chum change but saving every bit of it. On the nights when she didn't have to work, she would come by and keep me company as I did inventory.

Then one night, she was different. A month and a half had passed since we were intimate and it was clear it changed us but it wasn't clear how.

Usually she would make conversations and even assist me with the counting, double checking everything. When I asked her about her thoughts, she shook her head, stating nothing was bothering her.

"You know you're going to marry that girl." My father commented as he always did at the sight of us together.

I tried to think of nothing but the good memories that we had and not how desperately I wanted to beg her to stay.

"Here," my father pulled me out of my thoughts, tossing me his keys so I could drive her home.

On the way, I tried to make conversations but it was clear her mind was elsewhere. I wasn't use to her shutting me out. I was the one she told all her secrets to.

So I continued acting like tomorrow would never come.

But it did. And when it did, I was unable to face it, choosing to let her go.


	2. Elapsed Time

_**Six years later**_

**Chapter Two – Elapsed Time**

_Time slips through our fingers_

_So quickly, we never know when to grab it and hold on_

_Time can make us forget but also remember_

_It holds us captive to the dark recesses of our minds_

_Never allowing us to fully be free_

_-Clary-_

"Have you seen my sketchbook, baby?" I called out, turning the apartment upside down in search of it. The last place I remember seeing it was on the couch, which was now free of its pillows and cushions, but no sketchbook.

Simon emerged from the kitchen, cleaning his glasses on his shirt. He looked thoughtful for a second before asking, "Have you looked in your studio?"

I rolled my eyes, unable to believe I hadn't thought to look in the most logical place for it. I kissed him on his cheek as I passed and ran into the second bedroom I converted into my work space, where my book was sitting on my desk.

"Are you all packed?" he called out from the doorway.

"I just have to pack up my art supplies and then we can leave." I told him.

Simon and I began dating my junior year of college. Prior to that, we were friends, having met at orientation. When I told him I was an art major with no prior classes, he refused to believe that I made it this far on natural talent alone. So I sketched him one day during a mutual class of ours, handing him the photo when it was over.

"_You drew this? Just now?" _he sounded shocked but I knew he was impressed.

Over time, we learned more about each other. Like how he lived just a couple of blocks away from my old brownstone in Brooklyn. I never understood how we never saw each other but Simon just chalked it up to him being a wall flower, choosing to only exist when he was in high school. He claimed it wasn't until his first weekend of college did he decide to come out of his shell.

"_I took one look at my concrete dorm walls and thought, 'No one knows me here. They don't know that I use to quote Dungeons and Dragons or watch Ghostbusters on the weekends. I can be anybody."_

"_So what did you decide?"_

"_To be myself and stop worrying about other's perceptions of Me." he smiled._

In the beginning, there were lots of questions, the usual getting to know each other stuff. I discovered he'd been a vegetarian since he was 10, was in a band with some of his friends from high school. And while he was a bit nerdy, he had his moments of coolness.

"_So you lived near the beach? How was it?"_

"_During the summers when all the tourists were there it was a bit unbearable but when the season was over, it was pretty nice. I would hang out on the pier with Jace, sketching him or the different views of the pier._

"_I take it this Jace's your boyfriend?" he asked, looking at me seriously._

"_He's…we're…it's complicated. We dated in high school but things ended on a weird note so now, I don't know."_

Since then, Simon has always wanted to visit Montauk. In his mind, it was the perfect beach town from some classic Hollywood film. After we graduated college, we moved back to New York, to a brownstone similar to the ones we lived in as children.

Just like my mother, I became an artist. Most of my time was spent showcasing new artists in the gallery I managed down the street from my home. A few of my own works had been showcased and one went to auction, fetching a decent amount.

Simon decided to put a hold on being a rock star, choosing instead to become a writer. His first book, a young adult sci-fi fantasy novel, spent three weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list before being bumped off by some overly romantic vampire book.

But now his publisher and fans were begging for more and Simon was having a hard time getting the creative juices flowing. I suggested a chance of scenery and Simon took this as a perfect opportunity to plan a trip to my old home, in the hopes inspiration would strike one day while lounging on the beach. He found a house tucked far away from the beach to rent for the entire summer, counting the days until we would be out of the city.

"I'm gonna load the bags in the car. Meet me down there when you got everything." He called out, grabbing the luggage by the front door.

I threw my sketchbook into my bag and stuffed my last box of art supplies into my luggage before straightening up the aftermath of the search tornado I created before heading out, locking everything up behind me.

Appearing in the bright sunshine, I slipped on my sunglasses and threw my bags in the back seat before joining Simon in the front.

"You ready baby?" he smiled, grabbing my hand.

I nodded, trying not to let the worry I was feeling show on my face.

An hour and a half into the trip, Simon was getting more excited. "I'm telling you, this trip is going to be so great for us Clary. I just know this summer is going to hold big plans, not just for my book but for your art as well. Most of you pieces have been about life in the city but just think! Your next showcase can be about the life you had when you were younger."

One of the things I loved about Simon was how passionate he was and his optimistic view on life. Even on his worst day, Simon could always find the silver lining.

"You've been quiet the entire time. Are you not excited to see your mom and dad?"

"Yeah, it's just the rest of the people that I'm worried about. Montauk is called 'The End' by many of the locals because it's at the end of the island. But it's more than that. People there just seem to think that life doesn't exist outside of Montauk. And last time I was home, I left early because I could feel myself getting pulled back in again."

Simon gave me his sweetest smile and promised he wouldn't fall in love with Montauk. But the second we crossed the bridge and down the main road, I could see the "Santa came last night" look in his eyes. I could practically see the gears churning within his mind, the details for his next bestseller formulating.

"So you think, what, go to the house first? Check the place out and then pick up the groceries?"

"Yeah but let's not take too long. I promised my mom we would have dinner at her place tonight."

Simon checked the directions once more before finding the right turn off for the house. When we pulled into the makeshift grass and dirt covered driveway, I instantly fell in love with the property.

"I knew this was the perfect place when I saw it on the website. The owners dubbed the place 'Art Haven'. Said his wife converted the attic space into a little studio, overlooking the bay. Come on, they are inside waiting for us."

"This house sits on three-quarter acre of property and the beach is only 8 minutes away. We gutted it out and redesigned the whole thing, just finishing the project earlier this year. You two are the first ones to stay here." Mr. Winters beamed, clearly proud of how everything turned out.

I wandered through while he spoke with Simon about the rules and the finer details of the contract. The small cottage had antique barn beams, hardwood floors and lots of contemporary realists' paintings on the walls.

The living room held a two way electric fireplace and a leather chair tucked in the corner perfect for reading. The kitchen was a bit small but cozy, perfect for the two of us near a handcrafted writer's desk. Beyond that, the bedrooms both of which bore nautical themes, the master bedroom distinguishable by the dark navy colors of the wall.

Following the stairs near the weather worn deck upward lead me to the artist loft space. I pushed open the door, my breath instantly taken away. It was quaint, only big enough to hold an easel, a work bench and a bookcase but I could see myself spending all summer up her, drawing and painting and working with new mediums.

I sat down on the paint-stained carpet and grabbed my sketch book from my saddle bag I brought with me and just allowed myself to let go.

It had been awhile since I drew like this. Lately I'd been so focused on something and trying to make sense of everything but I couldn't remember the last time I just let myself go; to just draw for the sake of the art.

"Here you are. I hope you don't mind, I unpacked for you and made a quick grocery list while you were up here drawing…angels? Is this for a new biblical theme or something?" I heard Simon ask, glancing over my shoulder.

I arched my eyebrow at him before realized what exactly it was that I drew. Feeling a bit embarrassed and not quite ready to open up that Pandora's Box, I slammed the notebook shut and pushed it off my lap.

"No, just some random doodling. Ready to go?"

We bought enough food to last us at least three weeks; Simon went right to jotting down all of his ideas, loving the inspiration he felt from being here for just a few hours.

I put everything away and stepped outside to call my mom, as I'd forgotten what time she wanted us over.

"Clary! Did you and Simon make it here okay?"

"Yeah; we've been in town for a couple of hours now. We had a couple of errands to run and now Simon's writing."

"Well Luke and I can't wait to see you. He'll be starting the grill up here in a few minutes so why don't you guys come over now. The men can bond over books and it'll give us some time to catch up."

I wrote down the directions from where we were before hanging up and informing Simon of our plans for the evening.

"I'm gonna shower and change into something my mother will approve of." I explained, looking down at my shorts and tube top.

Simon nodded and kissed my cheek quickly before going back to typing away furiously on his laptop.

Standing in the shower, letting the water run over me, I thought back to that night. How his aureate eyes were ablaze with anger. The minute I was thrown out, I slid down the door, tears pouring from my eyes as he tossed furniture around his place.

Once school started, I rarely came home, despite all his apologies and begging. And when I did, I made sure no one knew.

"Hey babe, don't use all the hot water." Simon chuckled outside the door. His laugh jarred me out of my thoughts. The past was best left in the past.

"Don't worry, I'm almost done." I called back.

I finished my shower and quickly dressed in a coral, blue and beige spaghetti strap sun dress and T-strap sandals while Simon dressed in a t-shirt and simple cargo shorts, slamming his fedora on his head and his feet into his sneakers.

Grabbing the keys, we left the cottage for the more residential area of Montauk. In doing so, Simon wanted to know all about my childhood.

"I've already told you all about my childhood here."

"I know but putting the image to the words makes it more real for me as a writer. Come on; put yourself back in high school and it's a Friday afternoon. What are you doing?"

My first instinct was to mention him. Every Friday we would hang out before heading into work together.

"I would study for a couple of hours before heading to my job at Taki's. I mostly took care of the take-out orders, boxing them up and collecting the money. Sometimes I worked with the owner's son doing inventory or assisting the bar, cleaning the glasses, bringing food up, little things like that. That place became my second home. I had some good times there."

"See, I could just picture you, sitting at a dark cherry wood bar. A stream of natural sunlight cascading through a window that bathes you in its warmth. Your red hair gleaming luminously like a ruby from a King's crown as you draw out some forgotten memory that chose it present itself on that day."

"And that is why you're the writer and I just paint." I giggled, pointing out more memories.

"Oh my, look at you!" my mother, Jocelyn, called out as we got out of the car. I rushed into her opened arms, squeezing her tightly.

We walked into the house, Simon following closely behind as she caught me up on her life.

"I've been working on a few things here and there. Luke's been running the bookstore here and shipped books from the house to the other store in Brooklyn. I'm sure he'll be happy to speak with your wordsmith boyfriend here. Why don't you head outside Simon?"

He smiled and squeezed my hand before walking through the kitchen to the backyard deck where Luke waved the spatula in his hand at me in greeting. I waved back and took a seat on the stool at the counter, absent mindedly spinning the bowl of fruit atop it.

"Is there something on your mind?" My mother was always good at picking up on my little quirks and differentiating between my various moods and emotions.

"Being back here, it's bringing up a lot of memories and issues that I would rather not deal with."

"Stuff with Jace? Have you gone to see him yet? Or even spoke to him?"

I shook my head, stating the last time we spoke was before I left for school. My mom didn't know what happened between us so she couldn't understand why we decided to stop being friends.

"Have you seen him?" I asked as she prepared a salad.

She nodded her head, shaking the lettuce free of the water. "From time to time, when I'm out in town. I see more of his cousin, Isabelle Lightwood though. She moved back after she graduated and the two of them have been as thick as thieves ever since. He mostly stays to himself except for the time he spends with his father. Stephen hasn't been right since Celine passed.

"I knew it took a heavy toll on Jace, when you left. All he has ever wanted, since he was a little boy, was to see the world. To put Montauk and all the sad memories of this place in his rearview mirror as he drove off to bigger and better things. But I don't think he could summon the strength he would need to follow you and leave his father behind with Stephen's heart being so fragile. And now that his mind is going, I'm sure Jace would like to see an old friend, someone who could help him relax and distract him from the realities of life even if it's only for a little while." She explained the pleading and pointed tone of voice clear.

Before I could say anything else, the patio door opened and Luke came in carrying a platter of food from the grill.

"Clary, how have you been?" he asked, pulling me in for a hug.

"Good. How are the bookstores going?"

He shrugged, saying it was a bad time for print. "Can't keep up with the new technology of e-books. But there's still money to be made in shipping rare books and other oddities. How goes things with the gallery you manage in the city?"

I explained the new exhibits the owner was looking into and some of the newer pieces I was working on as we sat down to eat. When I spoke with my mother earlier, I reminded her that Simon was a vegetarian. She assured me that she was making some vegetable burgers for him as Luke didn't understand how one chose to not eat meat.

Dinner ended with coffee and blueberry crumb cake from the local bakery. My mother was regaling Simon with more of my childhood memories, all of which were embarrassing.

"Clary couldn't have been any older than six maybe seven and she wanted to surprise me with a cake for Mother's Day or something. When I came down the stairs, all the counters were covered in flour, she used the entire carton of eggs I just bought and the cake had no sugar, no flavor at all," She laughed.

"The whole time was lopsided and had a sinkhole the size of my fist in the middle. But I ate every bit of it, just to prove to her that I was appreciative of the gesture." My mother smiled at me.

"Yeah the cake had bit of egg shells and two scoops of baking soda. I remember taking one bite and then I threw the whole thing away. It was flavorless and very chalky."

"Clary never had the best of luck when it came to baking. She could make small things just fine but any kind of baking, any kind at all was beneath her comprehension." Luke commented, slightly pushing my shoulder.

As the hour grew later, I began feeling the effects of it. Simon quickly picked up on it after I yawned for the third time in a short span. I thanked my mom and Luke for having us both when my mom suggested we do it more often.

"We should make this a regular thing while you guys are here. Dinner here, every Friday."

"Sure, if I can pull Simon away for his latest novel." I chuckled as I gave both my parents hugs and bidding them goodnight.

"It sounds like you had a happy life here. I don't understand why you would ever want to leave this place." Simon commented as we were getting ready for bed.

"Yeah. At first I hated it here but eventually Montauk grew on me. Then I grew up and I knew I wanted to see more."

"I know I promised I wouldn't fall in love with this place but I could see myself writing out my novels out there and having dinners every Friday with your parents." Simon said as he slid into bed, a silly grin on his face.

"Yeah, this town is like that." I said, thinking back on the conversation I had with my mom. The part she said about Jace and him not having the strength to leave.

No one outside of his immediate family and I knew the truth about Jace's mother. Everyone else in town, including my own mother all believed the lie Robert and Maryse told, that she passed peacefully in her sleep one night.

But their lie could be farther from the truth; it was something much darker and harder to believe.

Some women experience postpartum depression after their child is born. Celine Herondale didn't. She never had the chance as she became severely depressed shortly after passing the fourth month mark of her pregnancy. Celine kept it hidden, from everyone, including her own husband, choosing not to share just how sick she was.

At 8 months, while home alone, she decided that her life and the life of her child wasn't worth living anymore. She prepared a bath and slit her wrists, bleeding out slow and painfully. When Stephen returned home and found his wife, he immediately called 911.

By the angel, they were able to save Jace but Stephen never got over the fact that he lost his wife to a pregnancy she clearly didn't want. Jace grew up feeling loved but always knew that his father was holding on to the pain. We talked about it many times on the pier.

But never once did he mention his desire to leave. Jace always made me believe that he wanted to stay here willingly. Not that he felt obligated to stay for his father.

Unable to sleep with that thought rolling around in my head, I slipped out of bed and upstairs to the loft.

I set up the easel and sketched out Jace and me sitting on the pier the night we shared the dark skeletons in our familial closets. It was the first and only time I ever saw him shed tears.

He wasn't angry with his mother, just confused. He has so many questions that he would know the answers to. Not having the opportunity to her; to know if he looked like her or had her personality; to be comforted by her when he was scared or frighten.

When I was finished drawing out the scene, I painted it, beautifully capturing the beauty of the pain and comfort shared in that moment.

Growing up, I always thought Jace was tough because he thought he had to be. Never once now did I ever consider that being tough was the only option he believed he had.

**AN: Chapter three brings the asshole version of Jace we all know, love to hate and hate to love.**


	3. His New Life

**Chapter Three – His New Life**

_The small boy who put on a brave face finally grew up_

_And he became the man who shut out the world_

_Believing everyone had turned their backs on him_

_When it was him who chose to shut everyone else out_

_Choosing to revel in his pain for a while before moving on_

_But never truly letting go of the pain _

_-Jace-_

"So these are the new plans? Did they give a projected start date? I don't want any interference with our day to day operations." I asked Isabelle at the morning meeting.

When I took over Taki's from my father, I promised him I wouldn't lose it or be forced to close it because I couldn't turn a profit. And so far I was doing a good job of keeping the bar running like a well-oiled machine.

Upon graduating from East Carolina University, Isabelle returned to help me run the bar in my father's absent; bringing with her a lot of ideas she picked up partying in between classes and final exams. Despite her being an occasional thorn in my side, she did have some good ideas and knew exactly how to read the customers.

So Izzy became the face, running bar on our busier nights, duping poor suckers out of all their hard earned cash while I managed the business side. After fielding many complaints from the summer crowd about not having good hangover food near their summer rentals, I expanded the take-out counter to include delivery. Sebastian was good for that. The women loved him and all the frat meatheads wanted to party with him.

I even made the bar available to rent out for private parties, mostly family reunions and a few 'Lost Weekend' type getaways. I even hosted a couple of bachelorette parties but those had to stop as I was often waking up next to the bridesmaids.

Under my management, we were turning a little more than twice what my father did when I was younger.

"They figured at the end of the season. We'll have to shut down for five months if we don't want sawdust in everyone's drinks. So I was thinking we could make the announcement at the Labor Day Tiki Bash for the regulars, close up and just supervise the renovation."

"Well these look good, just have the contractor make this window here a little wider and I'll drop off the check later today. Was there any other new business?" I asked, noticing Isabelle was holding her position near the door.

"Remember I told you I was going to hire some help; another person to help run the bar?"

I nodded, not liking how she was dancing around the subject. Isabella asked me to have an open mind before she threw open the door and motioned for someone to come in.

In walked a leggy blonde with bright blue eyes and a sexy air about her. She was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a pink and purple plaid tank top that showcased her more than ample chest.

"Jace, this is Kaelie. Kaelie, this is my cousin and your boss Jace."

I turned on the Herondale charm and gave her "that" smile, enjoying watching her eat it up. A slight blush crept into her cheeks and I knew I had her.

"Why don't you open the bar and I'll show our new employee her station." I told my cousin, watching Kaelie twirl her hair and bat her eyes at me.

Isabelle rolled her eyes but did as I asked while I escorted Kaelie to the bar, checking her out as she walked in front of me. Something about her was so refreshing, so unknown around these parts. I couldn't put my finger on it but I was determined to find out.

"The morning usually brings in the regulars and people passing through on their way back to the city. It usually won't pick up until 3, sometimes 4. If the bar isn't busy, then help out the kitchen with any food orders until Sebastian comes in."

I showed her where everything was and the inventory room where she purposely brushed up against me as she grabbed some bottles needed for the bar. She was straightforward and blunt, my favorite.

As the first customers strolled in, I watched Kaelie flawlessly fill their orders for a bit before heading back to the office to handle some paperwork.

Isabelle popped in every couple of hours, as always, keeping me updated on how Kaelie was working out. The regulars were distrustful of her the same way they were when Isabelle started. But the summer crowd appeared to love the new direction the bar was heading, believing I was turning Taki's into a "Coyote Ugly" type bar.

Promptly at 6, I left for the day like I always did. I put away the packing slips and checked my math for tomorrow's liquor delivery, placing it where I was certain Isabelle would find it before turning off the lights and locking up.

"Kaelie, is my order ready?" I called out over the roar of the customers. Word had spread like wildfire among the town that we had hired a new female bartender so we were packed wall to wall.

"Yeah, its right here Boss. That's a lot of food you have there. Is it date night or something for you and the girlfriend?"

I leaned against the counter and pushed my hair back and stared at her with my smoldering aureate eyes. "And what if it is?"

She shrugged but I could see the jealousy burning behind her eyes. I chuckled and straighten back up as I explained it was for my dad.

"He still lives in town so I always stop by for dinner before heading to my place. Alone. If you want some company after work, you should stop by." I winked, slipping her my address.

She blushed again but nodded slyly returning to her customers. I shook my head and turned, immediately greeted by Isabelle and her cocky smile.

"I'm getting you a bell cousin." I snapped at the suddenness of her presence.

"Admit it, I was right. Kaelie is a great bartender." She smirked.

"She's okay but I still think you should keep looking." I joked before grabbing my food again.

Isabelle's face quickly changed and she pulled me in for a hug. "Tell Uncle Stephen I said hi."

I nodded and headed back to my childhood home.

As I pulled into the driveway of the small 2 bedroom home, I sighed and contemplated not going in. Just walking away and putting everything behind me. But I knew that I never would. So I got out of the car and walked the short path and opened the door as my father shuffled into the room.

Right around his 45th birthday, I began noticing small changes in my father.

He developed a temper and problems with his vision. When I asked him about it, he claimed nothing was wrong other than old age getting to him, but I knew it was something more. So when he fell in the stock room and couldn't speak, I rushed him to the hospital. The doctors informed me he had a stroke, his third one that year.

After his hospital stay, we sat down with Doctor Branwell and learned what the next step was.

_-Flashback-_

_"Mr. Herondale, your father suffered a stroke in the right side of his brain. That's why he experienced the vision problems and paralysis. Those were warning signs that his brain wasn't receiving enough blood to function. These were things I personally informed him to look for after he suffered his last stroke."_

_ "Yes, well I wasn't informed that he suffered any health problems but from here on I will be accompanying him to all his appointments."_

_ Henry nodded and began explaining the steps to recovery and his treatments._

_ "Some side effect may lessen with time and therapies but some may be permanent. We won't know for certain until we begin. But some common effects are memory loss, difficulty processing new memories. Loss of balance and coordinating his body movements, central pain syndrome, and trouble with communication or swallowing are ones that almost never go away fully._

_ "You may notice him expressing signs of depression or drastic personality changes. He may become angry that his body cannot function the way it once did."_

_ "How so?"_

_ He sighed and gestured with his hands to show the infinite possibilities. "Many patients feel that their body has failed them in some way when they develop sensory problems like the ability to feel hot or cold, urinary or bowel problems, even perception of familiar surrounds. Your father may think someone is moving furniture around or things are a greater distance than they actually are."_

_ I listened intently as he continued to discuss the warning signs and how to continue his therapy once he was home. He offered a lot of tips as to proofing the place so he would have an easier time getting around._

_ "You can have him perform simple tasks, like getting up out of bed on his own or sitting into a chair. You may think it's silly but much of his recovery will consist of his ability to perform these. If his speech has been affected, then he will need to see a speech pathologist twice a week."_

_ It was a lot to take in but Doctor Branwell assured me if we followed the steps and managed his daily life well, he would be less likely to suffer another stroke any time soon._

_-End Flashback-_

When he was released, I put a stop to him working in the bar and hired Isabelle on full time. for the first couple of weeks, I stayed in my old childhood bedroom and watched over him. Just like the doctor stated, he accused me of moving his chair and the television and had trouble measuring his perception. I devised little tips for helping to get around and reorganized the house, moving things to higher shelves and removing some padding out of his chair, to work his limbs.

As for his speech therapy, I labeled everything and forced him to speak the proper name for something rather than just pointing to it.

I did what I could to take care of him but I couldn't be home all the time. And I feared if I did leave him alone, I would return to find he set the place on fire or fall down the stairs trying. So I hired a full time nurse to watch over him, to his dismay.

"_I don't need a babysitter Jonathon. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And your mother can do all the rest."_

_All my life, my father only called me Jonathon when he was truly mad or disappointed in me. I sat him down and looked him in the eye before asking if he knew who I was._

"_Of course, I know you who are. You're my son, Jonathon."_

"_Yes but do you remember what you always call me?" I searched for a sign of recognition but there was none. My father shook his head and asked me to stop acting foolish before calling for my mother to bring him a glass of water._

Doctor Branwell warned me he could develop Early On-set Alzheimer's as a result of the stroke but I wasn't prepared for it to happen.

So I hired several nurses finally finding one that could handle the cantankerous old man.

"Hey there Jonathan. Have you seen my glasses?" he asked, patting his shirt pockets.

I placed the food on the table and guided him to his chair, retrieving his glasses from his hair and placing them in his hand.

"How was your day Pop?" I called out as I walked into the kitchen to prepare the food I brought.

"I'm telling you Jonathan, she's stealing my medicine. I know she is. This morning I counted 18 pills before she got here. And when she left, I only had 12. I bet she's selling them to pay for the make up she cakes on her face." He commented on his disdain for his nurse, Sophie Collins.

"And like I told you earlier when you cornered me, Mr. Herondale, the missing pills are the one I gave you today with your meal." She retorted, getting his food tray set up.

Sophie was slender with dark hair and dark hazel eyes. She was kind but tough and wouldn't put up with much; but was a bit guarded and self-conscious due to the scar on her face. Sophie didn't speak about it but began covering it up after my father pestered her for the first three weeks she was on the job.

Finally she broke down and told us what happened, not looking for sympathy but in the hopes of making him understand why it was a touchy subject.

"_I was a nurse for a young man; the spoiled kind. He had crashed his new Porsche just two hours after he received it as a birthday present. I won't go into the details but the accident was bad. He needed constant care; something his parents believed should fall onto the shoulders of someone else._

_He couldn't have been no older than 21, 22. He was enamored with me and I turned him down every time. One night when I was changing his dressing on his cuts, he grabbed a pair of scissors off the table and WHOOSH! _

"_He cut my face open. I went to his mother but she claimed I was seducing him and fired me. I went to the hospital and got it stitched up but there was nothing more they could do to make it less noticeable."_

The next day she came over, her scar was covered but my father still accused her of stealing his medicine to cover the cost of makeup.

Coming to gather his pills and some water she greeted me. "How are you Jace?"

"I'm fine Sophie. How is he today?"

"The doctor said he may need to be put in Hospice by the end of the year. He's having trouble recalling the smallest of new details and continues to mix up the past with today. They don' think the meds are working; that it may be best at this point for nature to just take its course."

"You know your mom, she never wore any makeup. She never needed it." he sighed wistfully from the living room.

When I was younger, he would never talk about her. I didn't know it if was because it was too painful or he was simply suppressing the memory of her last day. All the pictures were removed and even my aunt and uncle were cautious about mentioning her.

I thanked Sophie and carried the food out to the living room while she went on her evening break.

As I placed his plate in front of him, he looked at it unblinking before looking at me, as if unaware of my presence; he was looking right through me.

"Jonathan? When did you get here?"

"Just now, Pop and I brought you some food from the bar. Hamburgers and fries."

He looked down at the plate in front of him and smiled. "You remembered my favorite!"

"Yeah, you don't remember asking me for it yesterday?" I peered into his eyes, hoping to see him recall or recognize something.

"Yesterday? We watched the News when you came by! And we had chicken strips and some salad, right?"

I smiled and nodded; hoping today was going to be one of his good days. Some were better than others. Some days he could recall all of my childhood memories and other days he couldn't remember where he placed his keys or glasses. Since his last stroke, there hadn't been any more but his brain never fully recovered, the section that processed memories suffering the most damage.

"You want to watch the game?" I pointed to the television as he took a bite out of his hamburger. As he cheered on his team, I informed him of the goings on at the bar.

"We hired a new bartender and Isabelle and I are going to fix it up once September is over. You think maybe you wanna come by one day and see the place."

He took another bite of his sandwich and nodded, patting his pockets for his glasses once more.

"They're on you face Pop."

His wrinkled hands slid up his face and felt the arm of his frames. He let out a chuckle and shook his head. "I tell you Jonathan. I would lose my head if it wasn't attached to my body," he paused and looked thoughtful for a bit before saying, "Your mother use to tell me that all the time. She always worried about me."

I kept my mouth shut until my father spoke again. "How's Clary? Is she still taking good care of you?"

I stopped chewing my burger for a second before continuing and swallowing the small bite that weighed a ton. In all this time, I hadn't thought of her and my father never mentioned her despite his memory book being filled with photos of us along with Isabelle and Alec.

"You remember Clary Pop?" I asked cautiously. Many times when he was presented with a question, he would become furious, accusing the person of patronizing him.

He patted the leather book beside his chair. The memory book was suggested by Sophie after one of his doctors' appointments. She thought if he could look at things from the past it may help stimulate some brain function and assist his mind in repairing itself.

"Of course I remember her. You two were always together. Why don't you bring her around anymore? She could put a smile on your worried face." He joked.

I cleared my throat and explained to my father that Clary and I weren't together anymore. I was beginning to see what Sophie was saying about him mixing up the past with the present.

"Remember Pop, we broke up eight years ago. She moved to Pittsburgh for school and I stayed here to help you run the bar. Then you got sick and I hired the nurse to look after you."

"Yeah, the one who wears too much make up. I told she's steals my pills, right Jonathon?"

A single tear left my eye as I nodded. It was becoming too painful to watch his mind slowly drift away.

"Yeah, Dad; you told me."

When Sophie returned, she helped my father up the stairs and into the shower before passing me his pills that needed to be refilled. I promised I would drop them off in the morning before heading to the bar.

"And Sophie, I don't think that memory book is helping him any. I think it's time to try something else."

She arched her eyebrows at me before explaining that when he flipped through the pictures she saw that he was remembering things. "He can name every single person in that book. It conforms him to see a life well lived. Why would you want to take that away from him?"

"Because he needs to remember the present, not things from the past that he can't change!"

"Is this about you or your father?" she asked, crossing her arms and setting her gaze intently upon mine.

"Just get rid of it. I'll bring his pills over round 8." I huffed as I left.

As soon as I walked into my place above the bar, I turned on the light, receiving a hiss of welcome from my cat, Church. He stared at me with his menacing yellow eyes, a look that said, "It's about time you got home."

"Don't give me that look or you won't get any dinner." I snapped, walking right into the kitchen. I grabbed a can of cat food from the cabinet, pulling off the top and dumping the wet, congealed mess into Church's bowl.

"Here you go." I placed the bowl on the ground and backed away before he scratched me for being in his space. Isabelle got me the cat as a house warming gift, claiming he was just like me.

_ "Both of you hate people so he's perfect for you."_

_ "And just what am I supposed to do with a cat? Take up knitting?"_

_ "Talk to him and keep him alive."_

At the time, I thought Izzy was crazy but as time passed, it became therapeutic for me to have someone I could vent to and not worry about offering their unwanted opinion.

"I saw my father today. It was one of his good days; he didn't forget as much this time. But he's mixing up his memories. Today he asked about Clary. He wanted to know if she was still taking good care of me. He seemed so hurt when I told him that we weren't together anymore. And it made me realize that it's been years since I've thought about her or even spoke her name."

Church meowed and licked his chops before giving me an exasperated look. I chuckled and said, "You're right. Why mess up a good thing," just as someone knocked on the door.

I gave him a curious look before heading to answer it, surprised it was Kaelie.

"What are you doing here?"

"You invited me remember?" she asked, feigning hurt that I didn't remember our exchange from earlier.

"No I remember, it's just I hadn't realized the time."

"Yeah well Isabelle said you usually sit up here and go over her paperwork and I shouldn't disturb you until later. So are you going to invite me in and give me the grand tour of this place?" she asked flirtatiously.

I smirked and widen the door allowing her entrance. She let out a low whistle at my place, commenting on how much it looked like a bachelor pad before catching sight of the bed.

She sauntered over and plopped down on it, crossing her long, tan legs.

"Care for a beer?" I offered, heading back to the kitchen to grab one for myself.

When I closed the door to the fridge, I was surprised she was already relieved herself of every article of her clothing, with the exception of her panties. As I stood there, all the blood rushing from one head to another, I thought about the last time I was up here with a girl. In the past, I spent my time with those lucky enough to warrant my presence at their place. This place was off limits, a monument that that night did happen.

But what was I holding on to it for? We were different people after that night and even now. I was still here and she was somewhere off in the world, spending her evenings with another.

Kaelie jarred me out of my thoughts by pulling me in, her indubitably pointed nipples rubbing against my chest.

"You know it's considered rude to ignore your company." She purred in my ear, her whispers tickling more than my lobes.

"You're right. Let me make it up to you." I teased, my hands moving to relieve her of the only article of clothing she was still wearing.

**AN: Long chapter I know but I couldn't stop the words once they flowed from me. Chapter four will skip ahead to sometime in June and will be from Simon's point of view.**


	4. Plans

**Chapter Four – Plans **

_You are the one thing that I feel certain about_

_In this world of uncertainty, I know I can always depend on you_

_To remain by my side and always be there_

_In good and bad, I look you and you_

_You are always there._

_-Simon-_

"Camille, I'm telling you. I have never felt more inspired than I do right now. I've already written half of book two and if I can keep this momentum, I'm certain I can get book three written."

"Well Simon, I'm glad. We were getting a bit worried over here that you wouldn't deliver. Many new authors have trouble churning out another success after getting a taste of it with their first. Now I have my assistant reading thorough the manuscript. It's a bit on the rough side but I like the way it's progressing. And your writing is getting better, its appears. The way you describe the places are so vivid and the imagery… Keep it up."

I thanked my editor before pushing the end button on my cellphone and headed back into the house. Clary was in the kitchen cutting up some fruit for a salad, humming along to the song on the radio. She looked up when I closed the patio door, a smile on her face. She turned down the radio before asking about my blatant happiness.

"You're in a good mood. I take it she loved the new chapters?"

I snatched a couple of grapes from the bowl and nodded. "Camille said it's a bit rough but she says that about all my manuscripts. I told her I could see myself writing the rest of book 2 and possibly book 3 here."

As the words left my lips, I looked at Clary cautiously. Since we came here, I felt so relaxed and motivated that I was toying with the idea of making our vacation here a more permanent one. It was something we argued about a lot. I couldn't understand what was so terrible about Montauk that she felt she could barely tolerate it.

_ "How would I work? You know the gallery I run back in Brooklyn. I can't just leave that."_

_ "Then commute; you can drive back into the city on Sundays and come down on_ _Thursdays."_ I would reply but I knew she wouldn't go for it. Even as I thought it, it sounded ridiculous but it needed to be said.

And today's argument was no different. She placed the knife down and cleaned her hands on a paper towel before leaning against the counter. "What is it about this place that has ensnared you? Paint it for me."

I sighed and opened my mouth gesturing around but found myself unable to do as she asked. Just as she was ready to claim victory, I got it.

"The city is filled with various noises which I love, but here. Here is filled with a different kind of noise. The waves as they lap against the sandy shores, the birds chirping long conversations to one another. And at night, the sounds of insects making their own melodic tones that flow beautifully with the symphony that nature is emitting. It creates the perfect backdrop for me."

"I have to say, I've never seen you so passionate before. Maybe you need to inhale the ocean tainted air more often." She joked as she rinsed off the knife and chopping board.

"Be serious. I know that the gallery is your life but writing is mine. And I truly believe that my writing is better as a result of being here."

She let out a heavy sigh which meant she was taking it into consideration. After some time, she finally caved and said she would discuss the idea of opening a gallery out here with her boss when she headed back into the city later today.

"That doesn't mean that he will go for it. But I will bring it up and only if he says yes will we speak with the owners about renting this on a more permanent basis." She warned but it was enough for me. I ran and scooped her into my arms twirling her around the kitchen.

She let out a high pitch screech and slapped my back, begging me to put her back on the ground but I knew she was happy.

As I slowly lowered her, I captured her lips and slid my hands under her tank top, rubbing my thumbs against the side of her breasts. Our tongues massage the other as I push us towards the wall while she goes for my belt.

"We'll have to make this a quick one. I still need you to drop me off downtown in an hour to catch the Jitney." She groaned out as she removed her top and slide out of her shorts.

I give her a look that relays my thoughts behind the "quick one" comment. She rolls her eyes and continues her assault of my lips. I make a mental note to buy some more chap stick as I step out of my boxers and grasp her firmly under her buttocks. Clary wrapped her legs around my waist and I slip in with little resistance. I threw my head back and she grazed my Adam's apple with her tongue, ever so slightly but enough to send a shiver down my spine. Her arms wrapped around my neck and closed the gap between us, melding our bodies together, sweat and sex coating us. Her breathing hasten as she reached the pivotal apex of her sexual pleasure. I backed up slightly, letting her walls compress the tip of me while she let out a beautiful stream of physical evidence of the sensual pleasure that I wrought.

After cleaning up and dropping Clary off at the bus stop, I parked the car and wandered through town, gazing at the various shops on the main road, getting a feel of the town. When I spotted Luke's bookstore, I went in hoping he had a moment to speak with me about a matter most urgent and important.

"Hey Simon; is Clary with you?" he called out from behind the counter.

"No, she had to head back into the city."

He nodded and told me to look around while he finished up his orders. I took him up on it, finding a few treasures for my personal collection. When I brought them to the counter, I reached into my pocket, pulling out the small box I'd been carrying with me for the past couple of days. I placed it on top of the books and slid them into Luke's line of vision.

Luke did a double take before commenting. "It's a lovely ring but I'm already married and I don't think I'm your type." He joked before realizing what I was asking.

"I really, really care for Clary and I know that you're her stepfather but she speaks of you as if you were her biological one. She's important to me and I want you to understand just how serious I am about her. This is why I'm coming to you first. Luke will you give me your permission to marry the woman of my dreams."

I looked up at the man before me who looked back at me with a sense of respect and nodded, giving me his blessing. "You break her heart and I will have to break you."

Letting out a chuckle, he asked if I thought about how I was going to pop the question.

"I've invited some of our friends from the city to come down for the party. I actually have a meeting in a few minutes with the owner of a bar Clary spoke of. I will let you know the details later today." I promised as I paid for my purchases.

As soon as I walked into Taki's, I could understand why Clary loved this place. It was a reflection of the person she was within. Raw and very honest. The walls were once some shade of beige but were now covered with messages from the patrons from visits past. The liquor cabinet was made of a heavy wood but was polished to catch an occasional ray of sunshine and project it onto the myriad of colored and clear liquor bottles resting on the shelves. The bar was made of the same wood but the stools that lined it were wrought iron with small backs. The specials were displayed on a chalkboard above the entry to the kitchen where several aromas were floating from and permeating the air.

I slid my messenger bag behind me and tapped on the bar, garnering the attention of a curvaceous blonde at the end of the bar. She took one looked at me and felt obligated to ask if I was in the right place.

"I think you may be looking for the Sand Dollar. It's a couple of building down." She chuckled turning her attention to the wannabe Abercrombie and Fitch Frat boy models, exhibiting all the signs of flirtatious service. She was laughing at their jokes, toying with her hair and leaning against the counter in a suggestive manner. I had been ignored by her kind all my life but I would soon be a paying customer just like them and demanded the same service, more or less.

I gave her a dry chortle in return before asking if the owners of the establishment were in. "I have a 2 o'clock meeting with them to discuss holding my engagement party here."

She dropped her attitude long enough to tell me that the main owner was out but I could speak with his cousin, Isabelle who ran the place in his absence. She shouted up to the loft area where a woman with long ink-black hair that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin was picking up a crate of alcohol with ease. The woman called back down and carefully made her way into the main bar area, passing the crate off to the blonde as she stocked the cabinets beneath. She popped back up and instructed her to stow the crate in the back with the others for a delivery before wiping her hands on her jeans and scanning the bar for the patron she was to meet with. When she set her eyes upon me, she gave me a smart smirk before walking out to greet me.

"You Simon?"

I nodded and took in the sight of the woman before me. For someone who appeared to tower over most men and women, I didn't understand why she felt the need or desire to wear such high heels. As she took the seat next to me, she stuck her hand out and introduced herself as Isabelle Lightwood.

"I run Taki's with my cousin who is out at the moment, handling some personal business."

"Simon Lewis, I believe we spoke on the phone earlier. I wanted to know about renting the place out for my engagement party." I explained as I shook her hand.

She looked thoughtful for a second, trying to recall the conversation before she nodded and instructed me to follow her to the office.

"It's a bit quieter here, yeah?" she asked, rooting through the desk for some papers. Locating them, she began asking me simple questions about the event.

"So about how many people are you expecting? Is this going to be something small or intimate or large and extravagant?"

"Uh, somewhere in the middle. It shouldn't be no more than 30 people, I and my fiancée included. I want something that says I ensured she was surrounded by the people that she loves the most and that mean the most to her."

Isabelle nodded and jotted down my answer before moving on, the date and time of the party. I didn't know Clary's schedule but I knew that she had the next two weeks free since her boss, Magnus Bane, was going on an excursion to Europe to look into some pieces for his personal collection and choice items for the private collectors he shopped for as well.

"I was thinking the last Thursday in June, the 26th at 7. I want to give those coming in from the city enough time to get into town and find this place."

"And ending at what time?"

"Three hours or so, so I was thinking 10."

Then came the most important thing, the food. While the bar itself had a wide array of menu options one could explore, for all private parties, they used a local catering company to ensure everything would be memorable.

"Agatha has catered all of our private events and she has no problem handling complex menus. So if you have any special requests or know of any guest with food allergies, just mark it on the bottom of the sheet here and she will make sure to accommodate it."

For that option I was grateful. Despite being a vegetarian, I knew Clary wouldn't say anything but would find it in bad taste if I didn't offer some meaty options for her and the other carnivores. I quickly checked off the food I wanted and circled the ones I had questions about before handing the papers back to Isabelle who called the caterer as she slid the contract across the desk for me to read over.

"I know its short notice Agatha but I also know that you can do it…You did that rush job for that couple at the beginning of the season. Besides this is for a surprise engagement party…Yes, he's popping the question at the party…Thank you Agatha, you're a doll." She smiled, hanging up the phone.

Isabelle convinced me that despite the phone call, Agatha would be available for my party. Then came the last detail to discuss, the cost of it all.

As I wanted it to be held on a weekday, rather than a weekend, the price was less than expected. I wrote the check for the bar rental as well as the catering company before sealing the deal with one final handshake. With Isabelle handling all of the heavy lifting, I was left with the simple task of contacting everyone and keeping it a secret from Clary.

I left the office, waving to the blonde with an attitude on my way out before bumping into a bleached blonde with a scowl. I apologized but looked over my shoulder more than one, trying to place the face knowing I had seen it somewhere before.


	5. A Happy Occassion

**Chapter Five – A Happy Occasion **

_As I watched the world unfold around me_

_I felt at peace with the pace of things_

_But then you returned and turned my world on its axis_

_And suddenly as I took stock of my life_

_I realized just how alone I was._

_-Jace-_

Life was going good for me. After that night, my father's mind seemed to retain some knowledge about Clary and the breakup as he had yet to mention either again. Despite spending my nights alone with only my cat, I felt like everything was okay. My life had fallen into a simple pattern of some sort. My mornings and afternoons were spent at the bar, holding staff meetings and going over paperwork. My evenings, I spend with my father, eating dinner and watching the news or baseball games. But my nights, I saved those or myself.

Even with Kaelie calling and asking to spend time with me like we did before, I kept them free to do things I liked. Working out mostly and perfecting my cooking. It was fine for me.

"It's nice to see his motor skills aren't as spastic as they were the last time." Dr. Branwell commented, watching my father's latest cycle of physical therapy.

"Yeah, I remembered what you said about that being 70% of his recovery and adapted it to his everyday schedule. And his nurse makes sure they walk through the neighborhood every afternoon just for good measure."

"So I was told. Well it seems that he is in good hands so if you'll follow me, we can talk about his latest scans."

As soon as we were in his office, Henry closed the door and pulled out the MRI he ordered a few days ago, attaching them to the lighted wall fixture.

"This is the scan we performed when your father was brought in after his third stroke. Now this dark area here was a pocket of scar tissue that I believe was interfering with his medial temporal lobe, his hippocampus and most importantly his basal ganglia. Now I can tell by the look on your face that you have no idea what any of that meant." He chuckled before explaining what he just said in layman terms.

"Looking at his scans, it appears the scar tissue formed sometime after his second stroke and put excess pressure on the section of his brain that housed his memories, especially the section that converted short term memories into long term ones and his procedural memory. This could explain why Stephen had problems distinguishing between the past from the present.

"Now this is a scan we took in the past two weeks after having removed some of said scar tissue. You'll notice that the pocket isn't as big as it was before; meaning a lot of the pressure had been alleviated. So don't be surprised if you see a change in your father, little things like expressing a desire to do things for himself or having a better time remembering things he just learned the day before."

Next, he suggested some ways to allow my father to feel as if he's regained some of his independence before stating, "If he continues doing this well, not only will he not need Hospice, but he may not need a full time nurse for much longer."

Happy to hear the news, I thanked Dr. Branwell and went to collect my father from the therapy.

Once I dropped my father off, I ran a couple of errands before heading back to the bar. The second I opened the door, a nerdy looking hipster came barreling out with no regard to the fact I was there.

"Oh sorry, I wasn't paying attention." He smiled, straightening his fedora. I shook my head, not wanting to ruin the good mood I was in. I waved to Kaelie who chose to ignore me and laugh vociferously at something one of the customers said. I grabbed the mail from the take out stand and headed into the office for a debriefing from Isabelle.

"I took a meeting while you were out." She called out as she hung up the phone.

"That's good. Who with and what about?" I asked, sorting through the mail.

"Some New York Hipster wants to propose to his fiancée." She explained before informing me about the call she just took.

"So Thomas, the contractor you hired, in case you forgot who he was; that was him on the phone. So he went over the plans and it's looking like it's gonna cost about 5,000 more than he quoted and the work is gonna take about eight months since he doesn't work during the Hurricane season." She snapped, throwing her pen down violently.

"But Hurricane season has already begun and we're still open. So what's he saying? They won't start the renovation work until December?"

"That's the way it looks, which means we may not be able to open in time for the start of the season next year."

"Fine, tell him if he doesn't want to start on the day we discussed, I will take my business elsewhere. I'm sure that will get him and his crew down here on September 1st."

"You seem to be very chipper. I take it you finally got laid?" She chuckled as if it were impossible for me.

"I've told you to stay out of my personal life countless time before Izzy. But yes, I am in a good mood. Today I was showed the results of my father's recent scans and it seems the surgery worked. Dr. Branwell says his mind seems to be recovering slowly from the stroke but some of the damage has been repaired. He still has a ways to go but the therapy seems to be working and the little tips that his nurse has suggested are helping. He has regained full control of his motor skill so the Doctor thinks that he may not need a full time nurse for much longer." I smiled.

"Oh, Jace, that's such good news. I always knew the both of you would pull through this. After all the hard times and the pain you've been through, I hoped you would come out the other side of this better. Uncle Stephen as well." She exclaimed as she hugged me.

She was right, I was better. Nothing was going to destroy the sense of peace I found. Things were looking up for me finally.

In the last couple of weeks, I managed to convince my father to dine at the bar twice; following more of Sophie's advice.

_ "He spends all of his time at home and in his doctor's offices. Maybe getting out and going someplace that holds fond memories for him could be like a special treat. You would only have to do it maybe one a week but you never know what may help." She suggested still riding high from the doctor's claim her photo book idea possibly contributed to his state of recovery._

Even though I didn't want to admit it, Sophie was right. His first instinct both times was to go right to his old office and check on the liquor orders. Isabelle joined us the second time, laughing at the things my father remembered about our childhood together. He even remembered Alec, who was currently in the military, training soldiers.

The night of the engagement party fell on his bar night and since Isabelle wanted to spend more time with my father, I allowed her to do the home visit and I could tended bar with Sebastian.

Right around 6:30, the guest began arriving, bringing with them phrases like "It's so charming!" and "Such a quaint place. Leave it to Simon."

"If I hear one more person mention how quaint the bar is, I may have to devise a drinking game." I half joked with Sebastian, pulling at the collar of my dress shirt; another suggestion from Isabelle: dress in a nice button up shirt and khaki pants to blend in a bit easier with the crowd. But as I saw one of the guests had on more glitter than a craft store, I knew I wasn't going to fit in no matter what I wore.

_"You should look like the proprietor, not an employee."_ I could hear her voice harping in my ear.

5 minutes after the party was to start, the second half of the couple hadn't arrived. The guests were getting a bit uncomfortable, spreading whispers that Simon would be stood up which prompted them all to order lots of wine. After betting him 5 bucks that the girlfriend wouldn't show, I left Sebastian to fill their requests and headed to the stock room to collect more and some grain alcohol. In the event she really didn't show, I figured this "Simon" would need something a lot stronger than wine to dull the pain and heartache.

When I return, arms laden with bottles, the crowd began cheering. Sebastian leaned over and explained the girlfriend had just showed up. "Looks like you owe me five bucks and a shot." He grinned, shoving his hand in my face.

"She a fool." I shook my head, digging out my wallet to pay him. I grabbed the bottle of Everclear from the shelf and poured two shots as he tapped my shoulder, pointing to the guests. I glanced over my shoulder at the crowd. All the guests had hushed and dispersed slightly, creating a half circle around the girlfriend and the curly haired hipster I recognized from the other day, the one called Simon. I clinked my glass with Seb's before turning and toasting the crowd, catching eyes with none other than Clary Fray. The smile melted away from both our faces and time in the moment appeared to stand still.

I couldn't believe that after all this time she was here, in what was once my father's bar. She still looked the same way I remembered, fiery red curls and bright jade orbs. She wasn't as skinny as she was in high school; time had been kind to her as she had grown into a beautiful woman.

And with a blink of my eye, time returned to its normal pace. She stole one last glance before directing her attention to her boyfriend. He dropped down to one knee and grabbed her hands, popping the question. I quickly threw the clear liquid into the back of my throat and winced as it burned on the way down before wiping away the small amount that dribbled.

"Seb, you good to take over? I need to get rip roaring drunk." I asked, not waiting for an answer.

He nodded, giving me a curious look as I grabbed the bottle of Everclear and quietly ran up the stairs to my place. I knew it would only make the situation that much more awkward if I got drunk behind the bar.

Just as I closed the door, I heard her fiancé shouting, "She said yes!"

Sometime later, a soft knock jarred me out of my thoughts and for a second, I thought maybe I dreamt it all. But the look of sympathy upon Isabelle's face told me otherwise. She slowly walked in, shaking her head.

"I had no idea his fiancée was Clary. He never mentioned her name. If I had known, I wouldn't have-" she apologized and gestured profusely.

I nodding and assured her that I wasn't angry with her in any way. "I know Izzy, I know. But right now, I really just want to be alone."

She nodded and slowly backed out the door, leaving it slightly ajar. I poured myself another glass of the strong liquid, hoping this would be the one to assist me in forgetting before getting up from the bed to close the door.

Call me a masochist but I felt as if I hadn't been kicked enough and I chose to expose myself to the pain once more. I walked out onto the landing and looked down at the festivities below. As if she sensed my presence, she chose that moment to look up, catching my eyes once more. The smile upon her face was fake and I knew it pained her to share this moment with me. And yet she made no move to shield herself from the pain, appearing to be rooted to the spot. She made no move do break our staring contest until her fiancée took notice. Simon whispered something in her ear before pulling her face towards his, kissing her passionately. I headed back into my apartment and close the door, closing off the pain. I instead chose to replace it with a temporary Band-Aid like I'd done in the past.

"Hey Kaelie? Are you free tonight round 11, 11:30?"

**AN: Review please!**


	6. Memory Lane

**Chapter Six – Memory Lane**

_I went past your old house today_

_In the hopes of seeing you_

_You weren't there but the memories of yesteryear were_

_Ever present, to remind me of what I left behind_

_And when you returned_

_You pushed me away once more_

_-Clary-_

It had been a week since the announcement of my engagement to Simon but all I could think about was Jace. The look on his face when he saw me. Time had molded him into a man, but if I looked closely, I could still see some of the boy I left behind. His golden locks that casted him perfectly as Apollo, the Sun God. But he also looked happy. For a brief moment before he saw me, I watched him behind the bar. He was there with a dark haired man laughing; a wide smile on his face that reached his beautiful aureate eyes.

It wasn't until we were outside the bar, did my mom remove the blindfold, revealing our location. I saw the crowd of mine and Simon's friends inside and I knew I couldn't turn away. I had hoped against hope that maybe he had sold it or wasn't there that night. I was certain he thought I was throwing salt into his wounds by having the party there when I said yes to Simon's proposal.

I wanted to go back there so many times but I could never summon the courage. Nor could I tell Simon what I was up to. I was certain he remembered Jace and to open that can of worms would bring out the one thing Jace and I never talked about or resolved.

So when Simon took a meeting in the city with his editor, I headed the long way to my mother's place. The route that would take me through the main road and by his bar. My thought was as I passed by the bar, I could talk myself into walking inside and confronting my past. I circled the block three times before chickening out and driving on.

"There she is, the future Simon…what's Simon's last name dear?" my mother called from the porch as I pulled up.

"Lewis. His name is Simon Lewis."

She nodded and pulled me in for a hug. When I was a child, I always believed no matter how bad life seemed there was nothing that a warm hug from my mom wouldn't fix. And while today it made me feel loved and excited about the future, it couldn't erase Jace's face from my mind.

"So I know you just got engaged but have you and Simon done any planning at all? Because I was thinking you should have a spring wedding. And we can get you a nice dress that'll cling to your figure and show off your curves." As my mother went on and on about her ideas for my dream wedding, I said hello to Luke. He took one look at her and slipped his glasses back on his face and buried himself deeper in his book.

I was led to the kitchen bar where bridal magazine after bridal magazine was opened to a page explaining 'Ivory … the latest wedding trend' and '10 things ever bride should do after getting engaged'. I now understood why Luke was parked in the living room, away from all the madness. I looked up at my mother as she pointed to the different things but it all fell on deaf ears. After some time, she finally noticed and jiggled my arm.

"You know I've been so excited and wrapped up in all this that I didn't ask: How are you feeling?"

I looked up and shook my head. I didn't know how I was feeling. "Excited and nervous. I love Simon and I guess I considered being married to him but I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"So soon," Luke chuckled as he walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "You've been with the boy for four years now. I knew I wanted to be with your mother the first time I laid my eyes on her."

"Well, what is it then?" My mom took the seat next to me and peered at me with kind eyes.

"The other night at the engagement party. I saw Jace and …I don't know. I started doubting everything. Was I making the right decision? Do I still care for him? Will I make a good wife to Simon? I want to say it's just cold feet but I also don't want to marry the wrong person like you did with Valentine, no offense. I just, I just need to feel 100% about this and I don't." I let out in one breath.

"What happened between you and him? You never told me. I remember you were really distant and moody your last month here before school. You avoided him at all cost and had Luke picking you up from work rather than Jace dropping you off,"

"I was thankful for that. I will never understand why Stephen thought it was a good idea to allow a boy like Jace to drive a motorcycle. I wasn't happy when he got into that accident but liked that it meant he had to drive something with doors." Luke injected, shaking his head.

I chuckled before telling my mom the truth. Well the truth mixed in with a believable lie.

"Jace and I slept together the night of our graduation and the next day when I woke up I told him that I thought we did the right thing but it was clear that he felt different."

Luke stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed loudly, not wanting to hear anything about me being intimate. Mom just laughed at him and shooed him out of the kitchen. When he walked out into the backyard she turned back and gave me a small smile and another hug.

"I am so sorry you lost your best friend like that. Why didn't you tell me?"

I wiped away a tear that threaten to fall and shrugged my shoulders. "I felt ashamed and stupid for thinking that he and I would be able to go back to the way they were before. It's just that I always felt so close and I guess I thought we owed it to ourselves to see if we could be something more."

"You need to speak with him. Find out if there is still something there before you go any further into this engagement with Simon. And if he won't talk to you, make him. Do whatever it takes to force him to speak what is in his heart. Then you'll know." Mom patted my leg and headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

"You're right. You said he still lives at home?"

As she grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet, she nodded and looked at the clock. I believe he visits every day around 6, I believe. If you leave now, you may be able to catch him before he leaves the bar."

I decided the best back drop for the overdue confrontation should be the place where it started so I drove right to his father's place. As I pulled into the driveway, I slipped off my sunglasses and looked at the house. I remembered the layout, how his bedroom was around the corner from the top of the stairs and the window on the front of the house was the same one above his bed.

Swallowing my instinct to turn tail, I opened my car door and walked up the short walk, wishing it was longer. I lifted my hand to knock on the screen door when the house door flew open, revealing a stern looking woman shouting about Jace being late. When she noticed I was him, she quickly apologized.

"Hi, I'm-"

"You're Clary, Jace's ex-girlfriend. I recognize you from Mr. Herondale's photo book."

I looked around, unsure of how to respond to that. The woman opened the door wider before explaining who she was.

"Sorry, I'm Sophie Collins. I'm Mr. Herondale's nurse. I'm guessing you're looking for Jace?"

"Yeah; I'm sorry for showing up like this but my mother Jocelyn told me that he was here, usually around this time. But I'm guessing he's not."

"No, but you can come in and wait for him. Mr. Herondale would love the company I'm sure." And before I could protest, the storm door was pushed open and I was being dragged into the past.

Sophie grabbed the remote from the coffee table and clicked off the television before announcing they had company.

"Mr. Herondale, you have a special guest." She smiled.

"It's only Jonathan. No need to be so fancy." Came the rough reply. A wrinkled hand shot out from the chair and grasped the arms tightly. As he grunted and struggled to get to his feet, I started towards him but caught the eyes of his nurse. She held up her hand and shook her head no.

"Now let's see." Stephen announced once he was on his feet. He patted the pockets on his sweater before fishing out his glasses. He slid them on his face and smiled a wide smile.

"Clarissa Fray, as I live and breathe." He shuffled towards me at a swift pace, his arms wide to envelope me in a hug.

"I told him. I told Jonathan, all he had to do was be patient and you would return for him. How are you?" He asked as he looked me over.

I looked into the eyes of Jace's father and was struck with a sadness of sorts. Despite him remembering me, I could see that time had not been his friend. The man I remembered was not the man standing in front of me. His thick blonde hair and blue eyes weren't as bright as they once were and he hunched slightly when he walked. The man I met at our graduation stood tall and held himself in a dignified manner. His eyes were alive with excitement and nothing was going to bring him down.

"How are you Stephen?" I asked, mentioning my mother had informed me of his health problems.

As he led me to the couch, he filled me in, the sadness striking even deeper. He suffered three strokes and some memory problems in such a short span. I didn't understand how Jace managed it. I asked Stephen and his face lit up at the mention of his son's name.

"He's been a real trooper, my boy. Stayed by my side when I was in the hospital and he takes me to all of my appointments. Did you know that he comes by every day and has dinner with his old man? Most kids today act like they can't be bothered with their parents but not my Jonathan. It never fails. He brings me whatever I want from the bar."

"That's really sweet. I was there last week…for a party. It still looks the same."

Stephen nodded his head vigorously. "I told him, I said 'Son, if you're gonna take over this bar then you can't change anything. And you can't sell it. You have to keep it the way it is."

"Well he's doing a great job of running it!" I smiled.

Stephen chatted a bit more about his recent trips to the bar before bringing up some memories of Jace and me working there in high school. Like the time we drank a 12 pack of O'Doul's and thought we were drunk. Or the time we tried to handle the liquor delivery and accidently dropped a case of aged Glenlevit Scotch that, in total cost 1200 dollars.

"Were you there the night he and his cousin set the grill on fire?" He doubled over with laughter before he even got the story out.

Anyone who knew Isabelle Lightwood knew she wasn't allowed anywhere near a stove. To say she couldn't cook was akin to saying a cow could jump over the moon. Impossible. I still remembered the winter she tried to force her idea of soup on us when our parents went out. Outside of most of the ingredients not complementing each other like peanuts, cheese and garlic; she made it worse and threw in a whole fish, with the head still attached.

When she served it up, I was the lucky soul whose bowl held the fish's head. I remembered screaming as the eye rolled around as if it was begging me to put it out of its misery.

Apparently one of the chefs was trying to teach her how to prepare hamburgers and she set the grill too high, sparking a small fire that spread to the wall behind the grill. Just as he was explaining the end result, the front door opened and in walked Jace apologizing for being late before asking about the car in the driveway.

"Jonathan, look who stopped by." Stephen smiled, gesturing with his cane and whispering loudly, "It's Clary. She finally came back."

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat and got up from the couch, thanking Stephen for keeping me company.

"Hey, I'm sorry to drop by like this but I wanted to talk about what happened the other night. I had no idea he was going to propose."

Jace said nothing as he dropped the white bag from the pharmacy in his father's lap and walked back out the door he came in. I ran after him and threw myself in front of his car door. I may have been scared earlier but now I was mad. If anyone was supposed to run, it was supposed to be me.

"Move Clary." He commanded in a warning tone.

"Not until we talk. I came here to apologize and I'm not leaving until I do so."

He back away and ran his hand through his hair. When we were younger and he did it, I found it endearing. But now I found it cocky.

"You know I can't believe that you have the audacity and the gall to show your face round here after what happened. And that fiancée! We used to make fun of guys like that? And now you're planning on marrying that. I thought you didn't want to get married?"

"I never said that."

"That's how I remember it."

_-Flashback-_

_ It was the night before Clary was to leave for Pittsburgh. She knew she had put off telling him the truth for long enough and if she were going to start over in a new city, then he needed to know. She knocked on the back door of the house and he threw open the door, so delighted to see her. Things between than had been so tense lately but Jace knew she wouldn't leave without resolving things. This is why he didn't understand the sadness in her eyes or the tears on her face. Jace waited until they were safe behind the door to his bedroom before questioning her._

_ "I'm pregnant." She murmured low enough that he had to strain his ears. But hear her he did and in that brief second, he weighed all their options before coming to a solution._

_ "We can get married. We can get married and I'll take care of you and the baby." He said, slowly sitting on the bed next to her._

___Clary let out a low chuckle as she sniffled. _"You can't be serious Jace. Where would you even get a ring?" The redheaded girl chuckled at the thought not noticing he had left her side and was now rummaging in his dresser for something. Finding it, he returned and knelt in front of her, holding a simple diamond ring between his thumb and index finger.

_ "This was my mother's wedding ring. My father gave it to me to give to the woman I wanted to marry. I am serious when I say I want to marry you Clary."_

_ The reaction Jace was hoping for wasn't the reaction Clary gave. She pushed him back and began pacing the floor, her eyes holding a fire that matched her hair._

_ "Did you do this on purpose? Did you purposely not wear a condom in the hopes I would get pregnant?" _

_ "Clary do you realize how ridiculous you sound right now? How could I have possibly orchestrated you becoming pregnant?"_

_ "No it's not. You did do it on purpose. You figured you would knock me up and when I discovered it, I wouldn't go to school in Pittsburgh. I would stay here in this Podunk town with you, never leaving so I'm forced to commit suicide just to escape the mundane."_

_ As the words registered in her mind, Clary immediately tried to take the back but it was too late. Jace had already heard it._

_ "Get out. Now" he whispered._

_ "Jace, please. I didn't mean-"_

_ "GET OUT. LEAVE NOW."_

_-End Flashback-_

"I offered you my mother's ring and you basically threw it back in my face. I would have been a good husband and father. I loved you and would have made sure our kid didn't want for anything!"

"And where would we have lived? Above a bar, our child being lulled to sleep every night by drunken frat boys singing their school's fights songs? We were 18 years old Jace and had our whole lives ahead of us. How do you know getting married was the right thing?"

He closed the gap between us, his nose a mere inch away from my face. "Don't expect me at the wedding."

And with that Jace got into his car and violently sped off down the street. Hearing the ruckus, Stephen ambled out of the house and asked if his son was coming in to eat. Noticing the tears I worked so hard to hide from Jace upon my face Stephen came over and wrapped his arm around me.

"He left. I didn't even get to apologize."

"Don't worry about that Clarissa. Despite how he's acting now, I know he loves you and he'll come back. I know he will."

One more tear fell as I shook my head, disagreeing with the old man.

"Not this time."


	7. Important Decisions

**Note: The song featured in this chapter is "Set Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol. I in no way own it.**

**Chapter Seven – Important Decision**

_Came home to find you gone_

_It was clear things had changed_

_I was trying hard to hold on_

_When all you wanted was to be set free_

_So that's what I'll do baby_

_I'll set you free_

_I won't chase after you_

_I'll just let you be_

_And here I will wait_

_For that day should it ever come_

_When you return to the home_

_The one I made for us_

_-Simon-_

I loved being in the city but I was happy to finally be back in Montauk. When I left in June, I truly believed it would only be for a week at most. But here it was a month later. Camille was so pleased with the way the new chapters were coming out that at our last meeting she ambushed me with a small publicity tour to generate some excitement about the new book.

When I told Clary she seemed a bit bittersweet about the news. I knew that she was against moving back to her childhood town but when I stopped by the gallery and spied her new work, I knew it was for the best.

Her latest pieces were one I'd seen before, earlier this summer in fact. The showcase was of a biblical theme, all featuring the same golden haired angel in some way. In the ones where the angel did bear a face, the resemblance to the man I bumped into outside the bar was uncanny. I made a mental note to ask Clary about it when I returned. From there I checked up on our apartment and started cleaning it up, ridding it of things we wouldn't need in our new place. As the rest of New York made its annual exodus, I stayed behind and enjoyed the solitude of the city, putting the finishing touches on my final chapters.

So on July 18th, I rented a small moving truck and began bringing some of our items to our new home. The owner was all too happy to rent the house to us full time once he learned we were getting married. In his eyes, we fell in love with the house which made us want to get married.

The second I pulled into the driveway, I turned everything off and ran into the house, searching all over for her. When I finally found her in the loft, I took her into my arms and bruised her lips with tender kisses.

"Missed you too sweetie." She giggled as we broke apart.

"So did you tell your parents I'm sorry I had to miss all those dinners? They don't hate me, do they?"

She slapped me playfully before returning to her artwork. "You? The guy who managed to convince their child to move closer to them? No, they could never hate you."

"Well good. I seriously had no idea that Camille organized that tour but I've really impressed her with this new book. I've already finished it and I'm about 1/3 through the third one."

"Congrats Babe. You should mention that to Luke tonight, see if you can have a 'meet and greet' at his store when Book Two is released. I know he would love it and it would generate a lot of traffic for him." she suggested.

"Maybe I will." I answered before catching her up on everything else. When I told her about moving our stuff out, she nodded but said nothing. In all the talks we had while I was in the city, she always acted like moving to Montauk was perfect. But seeing her, I realized that her eyes were saying something else.

"Are you second guessing the move? I thought you were beginning to like being back here. What happened in that time since then?"

I searched her face and took in her body language. She was holding on to something and I couldn't tell if it was a past hurt or if it was a fresh wound reopened but she wasn't giving me anything .

"Nothing, I just missed you. The house is too quiet here at night."

"Well it won't be for much longer. I boxed up most of our clothes and the rest of your art supplies. I cleared out the fridge and gave notice to the landlord. I'll head back down on Sunday and grab the rest of it before dropping the key off. Mr. Castairs gave us to the end of the month but said I could drop off the keys and pick up the deposit anytime between now and then."

Clary nodded and added more broad strokes of blue to canvas in front of her, filling in the space around the cityscape she was creating. I moved closer and saw she was painting the Brooklyn Bridge at night. But the view was designed as if a person was lying in the water a little ways off, looking at the luminous city. The skyline was faint but continuous in the background, as to create the bridge as the focal point. The lights along the bridge resembled a pearl necklace with the lights of the city glittering like stars.

"So you're done with the holy angel you've been painting?"

"Magnus needed something to show while he was on vacation and it was the only thing I had ready. He'd asked for some portrait pieces for the new gallery along with some nature scenes of life at the beach. I haven't been down to the pier yet but I'm heading down there next to sketch some things out before filling in the pieces."

I left her to her painting; seeing how she was focused she was, heading back downstairs to begin unloading the truck.

Some time later, she came down from the loft, smelling of paint and chalk. "I'll be back in time for dinner." She kissed the top of my head and grabbed her artist bag before leaving.

I finished the unpacking, save for her art supplies before setting up her desk and bookcases. As I was placing her various mediums on the shelves, I accidently knocked over what I thought was a box of rags. I knelt down and began throwing them into the box when I saw the rags were hiding four sketchbooks. I could tell they were old by the fraying edges of the cover.

The inside cover featured a handmade label, bearing the year she created this book, 2005. My curiosity got the better of me and I flipped through them. The first few pages were filled with portraits of a family. I could tell as all the members had the same dark colored hair and the mother and daughter shared the same bone structure. At closer glance, I realized that they were of the young woman was Isabelle from the bar.

"Must have done this in high school." I murmured, flipping ahead. The next set was filled with renderings of life in Montauk. Friends at the beach, splashing in the water. I loved the way Clary could take something as ordinary as a beach and turn it into a vivid scene. The beach scene continued for one more page before turning into more angelic portraits.

At the bottom of the first page, she signed it:

"_Jace in deep thought" _

The rest of the book and the other two were filled with more photos of Jace. Him in profile, some colored in; other just basic sketches. There were even a few nude studies of him. I threw the book aside and picked up the next one labeled 2006 only to be faced with more photos of him. The other two contained more of the same, her skills progressing as the years passed.

I packed them all back away, shoving them back into the box a bit more roughly than needed and smothered them under the rags. I returned to my computer but couldn't get the images of "Jace" out of my head. I remembered when I first met her she mentioned him, citing things between them as complicated. She never mentioned him again after that but I knew what it was like to have a first love. They never truly left your soul; always there lingering around the edges, waiting the day you would call upon them once more.

And it was apparent that Clary was doing exactly that now.

I shut my computer down and rummaged in my closet, pulling out my old Spanish guitar. I hadn't played it much, choosing to only pick it up when I needed an escape from the world and my own mind. But in that moment, I felt inspired. After tuning it and readjusting to the feel, I struck a few chords, singing along to the melody.

_After I have travelled so far_

_We'd set the fire to the third bar_

_We'd share each other like an island_

_Until exhausted, close our eyelids_

_And dreaming, pick up from_

_The last place we left off_

_Your soft skin is weeping_

_A joy you can't keep in_

_I'm miles from where you are,_

_I lay down on the cold ground_

_And I, I pray that something picks me up_

_And sets me down in your warms arms_

"You're playing your guitar." I heard her call out from the door. I nodded and finished the song before packing it back up.

"Why'd you stop playing? It's been so long since I've heard you play."

"Not really in the mood. Besides it's almost time for us to leave for your parents." I explained, not looking at her. As I walked away I could feel her eyes burning holes into the back of my head but Clary said nothing.

"So Simon, Clary's been keeping us abreast of the mini book tour your editor sent you on. Are people excited for your next book?" Jocelyn asked over dinner.

"Yeah, I didn't want to wait too long in between the first installment and the next. But even those it's been almost 6 months, the fans are still sitting on pins and needles for the new book."

"Yeah, I told him he should do a release party at Luke's bookstore. Have the fans come out and meet him, sign copies of the books."

Luke slid his glasses up on his nose, commenting on the brilliantness of the idea. "I would suggest doing it at the Brooklyn location; make it a bit easier for your fans in the city to get to you. I'll mention it to Amatis."

"Sure, I'll bring it up to Camille and Aline, my publicist and get back to you."

Luke nodded before shifting his attention to Clary. "I hear you saw Stephen and Jace the other day. How are those two doing?"

"Who are Stephen and Jace?"

"Jace is an old friend from high school. And his father is the man who owned the bar we had our engagement party in. I saw this man almost every Friday for years. He built that bar and ran it with no bank loans or help from anyone. He was a sharp man. But now, his mind is going and despite him being on the medicine and everything, he's not ever going to be the man he once was."

"Stephen Herondale was a smart and most loyal friend. When I told him I wanted to open my bookstore, he not only supported me and helped me set the store up, and he was also my first customer. But Jace is doing a mighty fine job of running the bar for his father."

"He visits with Stephen every evening for a few hours, just talking with him about his day and telling him about the goings on with the town and the bar. Brings him dinner as well."

Jocelyn smiled fondly, recalling a memory from long since passed. "He was always such a sweet boy. But Stephen could disappear into his own minds for days on end. I will never understand why he allowed that boy to have a motorcycle while he was still in high school."

"You know how Jace can be Mom. If he wants something he'll find some way to get it. But he was always smart about it when we rode together."

"That's because he knew Luke would ring his neck if he didn't or if anything happened to you." Jocelyn chuckled.

As they conversed, I felt like I was on the outside looking in again. Clary's eyes held a light when she spoke of Jace, one her eyes only held when she spoke of Jace. I knew there was something there, something that Clary had thought she resolved but had now found its way back into her life.

After some time, the conversation moved on from Jace onto our wedding plans. I was thinking early spring, something small and intimate on the beach. Most girls would have some sort of opinion about their wedding day but every time I tried to get an opinion out of Clary she would snap out of her daze and pick something at random or just tell me to pick whatever I wanted.

"Don't pay Clary much mind. She's never been big on things like this. You should have seen her when I was planning my wedding to Luke. All she did was offered her opinion on her dress."

When dinner ended, we drove home in silence much like we did on the way here. I stole glances at her out the corner of my eye every few seconds. Despite the smile on her face, something about her demeanor was very uneasy.

"Why do you love me?" I asked, hoping to get a rise out of her. It worked because the instant her brain registered the words, she snapped her head in my direction.

"Where did that come from?"

I shrugged and explained it was something that'd been rolling around in my mind since the night I popped the question. She kept looking forward mulling it over, and mumbling to herself.

Finally she answered, but not in the way I expected her to.

"I love you because you're not like anyone else. You always give me a reason to smile every day."

I nodded and mulled it over before jumping out of the frying pan and straight into the fire.

"What about Jace?"

"What about him?"

I took a deep breath before continuing on, unable to stop once I started.

"I think that you still feel something for him. I found the books in your studio. The ones under the box of rags. I saw all the photos you drew of him and it got me to thinking. How maybe he was the reason you didn't want to move back here. That whatever went down between the two of you, it was painful enough to warrant your decisions about moving here. Now he's popping back up in your art work and you're spending time with him and his father. It makes me wonder if you love him for a different reason than you love me."

Clary gave me a tearful sideways glance. "I did love him but it's over between us. I'm with you and I love you Simon."

"Yeah but you still feel something for him. I saw it the night of our engagement party, I saw it at the dinner and I see it now. You didn't even tell me that you saw him. Did you think I would care? Can you tell me that you feel nothing for him?"

"I don't know. It wasn't as if I was trying to hide it. I just went over there to speak with him and - I thought I was over him but…I don't know."

I nodded; my heart breaking as she gave me the honesty I asked of her. When we pulled up into the driveway, she got out but I stayed there, gripping the wheel.

"Are you not coming in?"

"No. Tonight I want to be alone so I figured I'll head back to the city and stay in our old place. You know finish packing it up. This way you can figure out what you truly want."


	8. Newfound Peace

**AN: This chapter will answer your questions about what happened to the baby Jace fathered with Clary.**

**Chapter Eight – Newfound Peace**

_Smooth like the midnight sky_

_Deep as the earth beneath my feet_

_I crave for the perfect union of our two souls_

_Joined together in the body of friendship_

_-Jace-_

After that evening with Clary, I filled my days with busy work and meetings with the new contractor, Cyril Tanner, discussing the renovations for the bar and my nights with Kaelie. I still visited my father in the evenings but not without calling to see if Clary was there to ambush me again.

But I couldn't get her out of my mind. The look on her face as I drove away that night was enough to break my heart if I wasn't so angry. I knew I was being just a little petty, holding on so tightly to the past. I had forgiven her for the things she said except for the marriage part. I knew then in my heart that I wanted to marry her. After she left for school, I put the idea out of marriage out my mind but I knew that I would never feel the desire to marry anyone else.

In the past few weeks I had shut everyone out, not even using words when I was with Kaelie. Izzy tried to get me to open up but after snapping at her one too many times she gave up on me as well.

"Son, are you sure you're feeling okay? You haven't said two words in the last half hour."

I snapped out of my thoughts and gave my father a weak smile. "Just got a lot on my mind Pop. It's nothing."

He smiled a knowing smile. "You're having women troubles. You and Clary are fighting. I should have known."

"No Pop, that's not actually-"

"You know your mother never got worked up over the small things. She just had this quality about her that made you want to protect her. I guess you could say I was afraid to get on her bad side. But there was a woman I dated before your mother. Now when she got mad, you'd better watch out. She was a bit of a spitfire and had a temper but I could always get back in her good graces with flowers and books.

"That's what you should do with Clary. Give her something nice and apologize. She is special that girl and you won't find another like her. Don't let her go."

After leaving my father's place, I drove around for a bit, not wanting to be alone but not wanting to be near familiar people. Somehow I ended up at Gosman's Dock. It was a bit of a tourist trap, a small piece of land filled with a seafood market, gift shops selling home furnishing and clothing.

When I was younger, I frequented this dock whenever I needed an escape from it all. I liked coming here to watch the boats roll in and out of the harbor and the peace. Not many of the locals visited here, so the chances of me running into anyone I knew were slim to none.

As I walked along the dock, I saw lovers holding hands, kissing and enjoying the salty air and beautiful sunset. I headed towards the end, staring out at the horizon. Just being here, I could feel some of the tension leaving my body. The feeling, though, only lasted for a few seconds. The couple next to me moved back towards the shops, revealing a familiar red head.

I considered turning and going back to my bike when I saw that her attention wasn't on me but on an elderly couple sitting on a bench a little ways away from us. Her hands were moving in a fluid manner, meaning she was sketching. Deciding to be a man and face my problems, I moved closer and took the seat next to her.

"Care for some unwanted company?" I asked. When she didn't reply, I snorted and got up to leave just as she called out to me.

"Jace? Is that you? What are you doing here?"

I turned around just as she was pulling her headphones out of her ears. She tucked her pencil into the spiral rings of her notebook for safe keeping. I shrugged and sat back down next to her.

"I needed to get out of my head for a while so I figured I would come down here. What about you?"

"The same I guess. I needed some inspiration for my newest showcase and the house was too quiet."

"Your fiancée couldn't provide that?" I sneered for no reason. As soon as I said it, I mentally kicked myself. Clary lowered her gaze and mumbled something about him being in the city for the rest of the month.

"He's packing up our apartment before our lease is up. We bought the house we were only going to rent for the summer. Simon fell in love with it the second we unpacked."

"So the fiancée convinced you to move back. And here I thought you had turned your back on our Podunk town."

"Jace, I know you're still upset but I am sorry. I am sorry I waited so long before trying to make peace with you. But since it's looking like we may be running into each other on a frequent basis, can you at least make some attempt at forgiving me."

I jumped to my feet, causing a bit of a scene. "How can I forgive you when I don't even know you Clary? You've been absent out of my life for six years. You were once my best friend. I knew everything about you! But now, I hardly know anything."

People were staring at us but I didn't care. I was finally getting everything off my chest and I was unable to stop once I started.

Clary nodded and gestured to herself. "You're right so let's get it all out now. Let's clear the air between us. Ask me anything, whatever you think you don't know. I don't care, ask me anything!"

I shook my head no. Some things were better left unanswered, a lesson I learned the hard way several times in the last week alone.

"I'm serious Jace. If this is what it's going to take for you to move on from our past and be cordial to me, then ask away."

"Fine, then tell me about our child. Never once through all our talks have you mentioned it."

She opened and closed her mouth before she clasped her hands in her lap, twiddling her thumbs. "I miscarried. I was about 12 weeks when I woke up in the middle of the night with terrible cramping. I threw the covers back and turned my light on. My bed and clothes were soaked with blood. I went to the hospital but I already knew."

I felt my legs getting weak and forced myself to sit down on the bench next to her. She stopped speaking but I urged her to continue. I needed to know.

"They told me and in that moment I never felt more alone. You were the only other person who knew about the baby and I couldn't call you, not after what I said to you. So I dealt with it on my own but not a day goes by that I don't think about it. I've even draw out pictures of what I thought our child would look like." She chuckled before passing the notebook in her hands into my lap.

I opened the book and flipped through until I reached the pages she spoke of. Staring back at me was images of a small rounded face child with green eyes speckled with a bit of gold and wisps of hair in blonde and light red. I noticed they all were images of a boy and asked her about this. She clarified that she didn't know the sex of the baby but always pictured it as a boy.

"Why didn't ever call me? Or come by and see me when you were home from school?"

Clary gave me an incredulous look asking how I knew.

"Your mom, she always texted me when you were home. Asking me to come by and see you or tell her what happened between us why we weren't friends. I guess she never let go of the hope we would get together again. And so many times I wanted to. I would get on my bike and get halfway there before turning around and heading back home."

"I was ashamed. Ashamed of what I said to you that night and the things I accused you of. I really am sorry Jace; you have to know I didn't mean what I said about your mom. I was just stressed out but mostly confused and scared. And I should have called you that night when I was at the hospital. You did deserve to know."

I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly. I felt ashamed and very foolish that I allowed something Clary said in anger to get under my skin that it prevented me from being there when she needed me.

"I know now. That's all that matters."

We sat in awkward silence, taking in everything. I decided to lighten the mood by recalling my first and favorite memory of this place.

"Do you remember how we discovered this place? We were riding around on my bike and took that wrong turn on Maple."

"Of course I remember. It was summer and the beach was crowded with families. And you were certain there was another beach near her. We drove around for I can't remember how long before finally finding that seafood stand with the lobster rolls. We walked around looking at the shops, and then we walked out to the edge of the pier. And you dared me to jump off the pier. I believe you bet me a dollar I wouldn't do it."

"You threw your bag into my chest and climbed up on that railing and jumped off. I still remember the shocked faces of that old fisherman. Then you broke through the surface with a huge grin on your face. You were completely unaware that your top was floating in the water next to you." I snickered.

"Yeah and this pier became our secret place. The place we would always come to when we needed to get away from it all I guess it's nice to see that some things never change."

Clary chatted a bit more while she finished up the photo she started sketching earlier, adding a bit of shading and depth before moving on to explain her job at the gallery back in the city and the one her boss wanted her to open in town.

"I basically run the gallery, meeting with the artists Magnus want and showcasing my work from time to time. When he opens the gallery here the showcase is going to feature paintings I created of life here in Montauk and the work of this young artist out of Los Angeles, Julian Blackthorn. He paints mostly in oils but I've seen a couple of his watercolor works. So his contribution will include a lot of ocean scenes.

"I never thought I would ever move back but now that I am, I'm reminded of what made me fall for it in the first place."

"It was something I'd hoped for it more times than I care to admit but I happy that seems like it's now on your term."

Clary just shrugged and looked out at the sun, packing up her things.

I wasn't ready to let go of the newfound peace between us so I invited her to my place for dinner.

"You want to cook me dinner? Can you … even cook?"

"Yeah, I'm not Isabelle. I know how to feed myself."

"So what's on the menu? Something the kitchen staff is gonna whip up."

I shook my head, explaining that I was taking her someplace truly special.

**AN: And there you have it. At first I was toying with the idea that maybe Clary gave the baby up for adoption or she aborted it but I didn't think that was something Clary would do so I had her miscarry. It was the more painful choice but I could have her doing the other two options.**


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